Repercussions
by D-chan
Summary: Kougaiji x Yaone :: lime, massive angst alert :: There is such a thing called consequence.


**: Repercussions :**

_Gensomaden__ Saiyuki_

Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki. All rights go to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kougaiji/Yaone

Warnings: lime, massive angst alert

Notes: Done for a challenge at the LJ community, lemonaftertaste. Done for challenge (22) _love is like a punishment_. I chose the KY pairing because 1) more fics should be written for them, and 2) it's a challenge for me—and finally a way for me to relieve the writing urges for them.

Dedicated to Becky, the biggest KY fan I know.

* * *

Forbidden.

The word had never crossed her mind during the act. Beforehand, certainly—it had echoed in her head relentlessly, ricocheting off every wall in her skull. Synonyms had accompanied it as well: forbidden, taboo, off-limits, prohibited. He was not to be touched without permission. He was not to be touched _period_, unless his life or something of equal or more importance was on the line.

Nothing had been on the line. Or rather, everything had been on the line, but it had all seemed so insignificant after a brief touch. Fingers brushing together—no, not even that. The tips of his fingers barely grazing her knuckles had illuminated a dark corner of her mind with brilliant intensity. Blinded, she had stumbled, and the next thing she had realized, they had been...

She had somehow become entwined in his arms, almost as if a creature of old legend had been wrapping vines about her, determined to make her one with it. One with _him_. The idea of two separate beings had seemed so alien; they were two minds with one body, where one's pleasure only heightened the other's.

And he had been kissing her with such desperation, any warning signs were instantly ignored. So needful it had almost hurt; his mouth bruising yet immeasurably tender at the same time, as though he had wanted to praise eternity to her lips in only a few moment's time. As though after this, they would vanish and cease to exist.

Then she had realized she was responding with a fervor that surpassed even his. The sensation had been surprising yet oddly welcome. For the first time in years, she had allowed her emotions to pour out freely in her actions.

They had not ceased to exist, but time had; everything else around them had. Once the clothes had disappeared, there had been nothing to distract them from the twin pulses beating between them. Heat had flared, washing over her and threatening to consume her, and then slowly, gradually, had backed down, only to build up again minutes later. Dusty red had been one of the only colors she had realized. She recalled somehow catching a handful of the color already tangled from their previous efforts. Then she had noticed he was running a free hand through _her_ hair; somehow it had come undone. But her hair-tie... where had it gone?

His lips against her ear, the words rapid and almost senseless, had succeeded in distracting her yet again. There was nothing again, and only feeling. Only sensation; only _emotion_. Only dark, damp skin sliding easily over her own; only her breath coming out hot and wet as his presence slid into her with liquid ease; only her name being whispered in ragged breaths. Her name, _her_ name, _her name_.

Cries had escalated, but had seemed to hush the moment they had almost reached their peak. An indescribable heat had filled her, yet had not completed her—she had not finished. A flash of guilt and terror had touched her, and she had almost found the word for their union. But then...

Then...

He had not left her. For the first time since the embrace, his attention had focused solely on her. All his senses had turned outward, into her, attuned to her needs. Clawed hands had touched her thighs, trying to avoid damaging her flesh with only gentle caresses; lips on her throat, kissing, murmuring—this time not her name, but words that had meant so much more.

Rocking against him, her tingling pleasure had exploded. She had wanted the ending to be slow and sweet, but so much had happened in so little time. Short—but intense. When his name escaped her throat, the syllables had formed themselves in a single, quiet sob.

Forbidden.

The words came back in a frightening rush. Taboo, off-limits, prohibited, untouchable, illicit, absolutely and explicitly _not allowed_.

They were so close. Physically, they had come as close as possible, but in every other sense... _so close_, and she couldn't return the words he had given her. Any other woman may have cried, but she could not, _would_ not. No one who worked under Lord Kougaiji could afford to give in to that.

Instead, blinking back watery pinpricks, Yaone inhaled deeply. She tried to say something calm, something rational, something to prove she was the perfect type to handle a situation spiraling out of control—something to prove she was worthy of the position and trust her lord had given her many times before. But all that came out was a pitiful, "Oh, gods..."

He jerked back the same instant she spoke. His eyes flashed with guilt, horror, and desperation. Not at the act itself—gods, no. His whispers had proved no guilt could touch him there. But it was for the same reason she had spoken, the same reason she lay stiff beneath him, yet with her nails embedded in the firm muscle of his upper arms. They had acted on impulse; they hadn't _thought_. Every reason that had held them back before – the danger, the rumors, the repercussions and consequences – all had been forgotten in an instant. A brief but simultaneous breach in their guards had managed to hit the weak point, crumbling and bringing the walls down all around them.

"Yaone." Her name once again, but this time surging with regret. "I... shouldn't have..."

His struggle with the apology stunned her. So open, unguarded... her lord was always easy to read, but never this easy; he never lacked this much composure. His control of his power was slipping—and it pained her to watch. She was not supposed to see him like this.

"Kougaiji—" She cut herself off, horrified at her mistake, and scrambled to correct herself. "My lord—"

"Yaone." Pain crossed his features. "Yaone, don't."

It was rude to ignore him, and under any other circumstances she wouldn't have even considered the idea. But they had come this far, and too much damage had been done. She had to make amends. When she spoke, she was amazed to find her voice relatively level. "With your permission, Lord Kougaiji, I will plead illness for a day or two. During that time, perhaps we can... a way to fix..." She trailed off, dismayed to find her hands still tense and gripping his shoulders. Despite all the risks, it was so hard to convince herself she had to let go. As if a few more moments of this would somehow heal everything, erase the mistakes...

"Yes," Kougaiji said after a moment's hesitation. He hadn't moved, yet did not meet her eyes and slowly steadied his voice. He sighed. "Yes, you do that. I'll... think of something."

Yaone clenched her eyes shut, fighting back a strong wave of emotion. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry."

Thousands of invisible words lay between that simple exchange. So much could be read into, and yet Yaone was afraid. Hadn't guessing her lord's intentions gotten her into this trouble in the first place? Her will had not been strong enough. A simple touch had shattered it.

If anyone found out, Lord Kougaiji's mission was sure to be done for.

Of this Yaone was certain. She knew her lord had realized it as well; that was why he had granted her permission to pretend she was unwell. While they had allies – Dokugakuji, Lirin, and Lord Kougaiji's countless lower subordinates – their enemies were fewer but far more dangerous.

More importantly, her lord should not have been the one to apologize.

She had hardly realized Kougaiji was moving until she could no longer feel the sharp bones of his shoulders. Startled, she sat up—and immediately flushed, fumbling for a sheet to cover herself. True, she had nothing left to hide anymore, but it was a natural reaction for her.

And it seemed while she had been quietly agonizing, her lord had been doing some serious thinking. "No," he said as she reached for her clothes. "Don't bother."

She lowered her eyes to her outstretched arm, her hand falling limp instinctively at his order. "But..."

"I'll leave," he said brusquely, his head turned. Even from her angle, Yaone didn't miss the pink tint to his face. She was admittedly surprised, pleased, and embarrassed all at once. Though he had seen her, he also didn't seem to think it was proper to look. And, she realized, it was all right for her to look at him; he had found clean pair of jeans already.

"I'll leave," he repeated, this time more slowly. "For an hour or so. Don't let anyone in. If _someone_ comes in without permission—" And from his tone of disgust, there was no need to ask who that 'someone' might be, "—and they ask any stupid questions, all you were told was to wait here until I've come back."

When she didn't question his orders – and she had no reason to; she was simply awaiting further instruction – he continued. "You can use the bath to wash up."

Wash up—and erase the scent, she knew. The implication made her blush furiously. Honestly, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. If they had simply waited until her lord's mission was over... but there was no time to think about the what-ifs now.

"But my lord," she whispered, trying not to choke on her words. "Don't you, as well..."

There was an unnaturally long pause before he answered, and when he did, his voice was rougher than it had been. "It's stronger on you."

Oh.

Curling her legs toward her chest, wincing at the resulting pain in her lower areas, Yaone nodded. If only, if only, if _only_, she kept thinking.

Even as he left, her own plans were rapidly taking shape. She had to be a quick thinker in battle; it was a relief to know it came to her even now. Without his presence, it was somewhat easier to sort out her confusion and realize the small details they had forgotten. Ignoring the aches in her legs and abdomen, she stood and hurriedly dressed herself. Clothes, she decided; she would need fresh clothes. And the clean-up... normally Kougaiji did not allow anyone to organize his room. There was often no need to—he was tidy enough. But the sheets absolutely had to be washed and changed, and her dirty clothes, as well as his.

He had given her an hour.

For the first few minutes of rapid cleaning, Yaone managed to keep her mind blissfully blank. Tearing off the dirty sheets, tucking them away in the bathroom, drawing a warm bath – not hot, as she couldn't allow herself to get too comfortable – putting the room back into its proper order; all were important tasks. Thankfully, she did most everything without interruption.

Only when she sank into her bath did everything come rushing back. Heat, desperation, need, union... flickers of change in her lord's face, as he had taken equal pleasure in touching her as she touched him. And discovering she could be bold when caught up in the moment was almost overwhelming.

Forbidden.

It couldn't happen again. They absolutely could _not_ afford to take that risk again. Once had been bad enough.

Not bad. Good. Wondrous. Unexplainable.

_Forbidden,_ she told herself sternly, unaware she was scrubbing too hard until her nails scratched the tender underside of her arm. Yaone flinched.

She was so harsh on herself. Even with his claws, Kougaiji had been so gentle...

_He's absolutely forbidden to you._

This was exactly why they had constructed those emotional barriers before. Not only to protect others, to protect Lord Kougaiji's mission, but because under the current circumstances, their relationship was impossible. If word slipped to the lady Gyokumen Koushu, or worse, Doctor Nii...

_Forbidden, forbidden, forbidden!_

Seeking pleasure had too many consequences.

Without Lord Kougaiji in the room, she felt less obligated to steel herself. Had anyone else been present, she would have pulled herself together for the sake of attempting normalcy. From this point on, circumstances required nothing but sheer platonic _normalcy_.

But she couldn't help herself alone. Doubled over, her nose almost touching the surface of the soapy water, Yaone finally cried.


End file.
